Greetings from Fat City, USA

"The study is still ongoing, but it appears that it was a prosperous
culture which accorded great importance and status to the fattest women of
the tribe. Many of the drawings depict great feasts at which impossibly
huge women are fed by legions of male acolytes. There is great
disagreement among the researchers as to the interpretation of these
drawings, with one side claiming that they are symbolic representations of
some unknown mythology, while the other side believes that they are
representations of actual events. The discovery of the remnants of a
massive feast in one of the cavern's antechambers has done nothing to
quell the controversy." (From "Las Mujeres: An Appetite for the Good
Life", published by the LM Chamber of Commerce.)

There wasn't much time for small talk, because no sooner had we sat
down at one of the large tables, than Lily brought in three turkey
platters piled to overflowing with a sinfully rich lasagna, oozing with
cheese and sausage and rich oily marinara sauce. I looked at the enormous
helping she placed in front of me -- it was easily equal to TWO full pans
of lasagna that I'd make at home -- and I began to wonder whether I was
equal to the challenge. There's only one way to find out, I said to
myself, then picked up my fork and began eating.

My belly was pretty full when I started -- the food in the car, the
heros in the truck -- but I pressed on, determined to at least do some
damage. The boys came in after a while and helped themselves to plates as
big as mine. I took frequent breaks from my gorging, but my four
companions didn't stop for a minute, each of them refilling their plates a
couple of times, putting their forks down only to devour huge hunks of the
two-foot Italian breads doused in butter that occupied the center of the
table.

I played little games with myself, saying in my head, Just finish half
of it. Just one more forkful. You can do it. You're almost at two-thirds.
If you eat a little more, you'll stretch your belly and you'll have more
room. You can't let yourself be out-eaten by some kids. Rest a minute,
then you'll get your pace back.

Each time I'd rest, I'd look around the table. The boys were
single-mindedly concentrating on fitting as much food as possible into
their growing bellies, their concentration and dedication to their task
making me certain that it wouldn't be long before each of them surpassed
Mountain in size. Mountain and Lily, meanwhile took turns from feeding
themselves to feed one another. They would close their eyes and moan
softly as their partner's hand slowly maneuvered a huge load of rich pasta
into their waiting mouth. After they'd each filled up their third platter,
they mixed their feeding with gentle caresses, then kisses and
face-nuzzling, seemingly unaware of the presence of anyone else in the
room.

About this time, I looked down and noticed that -- somehow -- there
were only three or four forkfuls left on my plate. My stomach was
impossibly distended and I was starting to feel pretty hot between my legs
as I watched the sensuous intertwining of food and sex going on next to
me. I imagined it was Diana's hand feeding me instead of my own and I
greedily gobbled down the last few bites, then lustily followed it down
with a large hunk of crusty bread, only stopping myself when I noticed
that my hands were shaking and my head was getting light. I leaned back in
my chair, folding my hands over the inflated balloon that was bulging out
of my open pants, and listening to the syncopated rhythm of forks against
plates that was going on all around me.

"Hundreds of years later, when Botero, the Spanish conquistador, became
the first European to set foot on the mesa in 1582, he was greeted by the
Baiute Indians, who welcomed him and his band of sixteen starving soldiers
to their fertile land. Unlike the scenario played out in so many other
encounters between Europeans and Native Americans, Botero, tired from his
ceaseless and futile search for golden cities, decided to settle in and
make his home among the natives. As he wrote in his journal, 'These simple
people, so warm and welcoming, by their example have convinced me to end
my wanderings. I seek rest, and where better to live than here, since I
can no longer resist the peaceful charms of these beautiful dark women, so
healthy and exceedingly plump...'" (From "Las Mujeres: An Appetite for the
Good Life", published by the LM Chamber of Commerce.)

There was a hand on my stomach and I sat up with a start, suddenly
feeling very dizzy. "Are you okay?" one of the boys was asking. I realized
that I must've fallen asleep for a little while, because Mountain and Lily
were not sitting at the table anymore, and their licked-clean plates
looked very lonely on the food-free expanse of Formica. "You want to see
the rest of this place?" the younger one asked.

"Where'd Mountain and Lily go?" I asked, standing up, and suddenly
feeling the weight of the massive meal as it forced my stomach outwards
and downwards, swollen to a size I'd never before seen.

"They went to their room or something," the other boy said. "I just
hope they come out soon so we can have dessert!" They started walking
through the big room and I followed, my hands underneath my distended
stomach, supporting its weight. They argued playfully as they walked about
who had eaten more dinner and who could eat more dessert, asking me at one
point to judge which one of them had the bigger stomach. Not wanting to
insult either of them, I told them I couldn't decide, even though it was
clear that the older boy was obviously bigger.

We came to their bedroom after a short walk, and it looked like any
other young boy's bedroom: a mess! There were toys everywhere, books and
papers all over the place, tossed-off clothes, and empty cartons, bags and
boxes of food everywhere. But what really caught my attention were the
four big posters that adorned the walls. They were old-fashioned circus
posters, huge and garishly colored, each depicting an enormous woman
seated on a chair surrounded by tables overflowing with food. "The
Fabulously Fat Dolly Dimples," one of them said. "Donna Dimples, Fattest
Woman in the World," said another. "Fat Fannie Franklin: The Fattest Woman
Alive," said the third. And, "990-Pound Lazy Lily Loving, the Fattest
Woman Who Ever Lived," said the last one, above a picture of the very
woman I'd just gorged with.

"What are these pictures?" I asked, unable to tear my eyes away for
even a second.

"Oh, those?" said the older boy, pointing at the pictures in turn.
"Well, that one's Mom at her old job, and that one's Grandma and
Great-Grandma and Great-Great-Grandma. They were all pretty famous. Then
we moved here. Do you want to see our fort? Mountain put a frigerator in
it and we have some snacks if you want." I couldn't imagine eating any
more at that moment, so I declined and the two of them took off outside,
disappearing into the woods, the bouncing of their bellies easily visible
from behind.

"Some of Botero's men returned to Spain bearing maps marked with the
location of 'La Mesa de las Mujeres Gordas'. When Europeans next returned
to the area in 1621, however, they found the area uninhabited and no trace
of Botero or the Baiutes. It has been speculated that the diseases carried
by the Spaniards decimated the population as happened so many other times
during the exploration of the New World. What the next band of explorers
did find was a soil unrivaled in its richness and fertility, although, of
the several settlements that were attempted here, none lasted more than a
dozen years, due to the extreme difficulty involved in reaching the mesa."
(From "Las Mujeres: An Appetite for the Good Life", published by the LM
Chamber of Commerce.)

I studied the pictures for a few minutes, amazed at the size of these
women, intrigued by the way they got fatter with each generation and
astounded to realize that the Lily I'd just met was even larger than she'd
been in the picture -- larger by a long way. I sat on the edge of one of
the boys' beds and ran my hands over my -- comparatively -- tiny belly,
wondering just how it must feel to be that massive, and how long it might
take me to grow as big as Lily, and then even bigger. I imagined myself on
a mission to grow enormous; I'd enlist Tonia and Diana to assist me and
their duties would be to ensure that my mouth and my belly were full
twenty-four hours a day. I imagined them pouring buckets of food down my
waiting throat, my stomach swelling like an over-inflated balloon. Caught
up in the frenzy of feeding, they'd stuff each other as well, and the
three of us would grow to mammoth proportions. My belly would be so big
that it would practically fill up an entire room. Tonia's ass would grow
so wide that we'd have to knock down all the walls in the house just so
she could turn around. Diana's boobs would swell to such massive size that
they'd each require four strong men to lift them just to keep the tender
flesh from dragging on the ground.

As I fantasized, my hand found its way beneath my swollen stomach and
underneath the tight waistband of my panties. My pussy was burning up and
dripping with anticipation, and my hand homed in on the heat, rubbing and
massaging my tender womanhood until I couldn't stand it any more. I
exploded in violent tremors and temblors, conscious of nothing but the
orgasm which roared through my spine like a million volts, and of the
shaking of the huge meal in my belly, pressing down on me like the weight
of a fat lover.

When I finally calmed down from my repeated ecstasies, I was surprised
at how loudly I was still breathing. It was a few moments before I
realized that the heaving breath wasn't coming from me, but was coming
through the wall beside me. Pulling up my pants, which seemed somehow
tighter than they'd been a few moments ago, I followed the sounds through
the house, out into the truck stop and into a corridor that was on the
opposite side of the kitchen. Finding a door that appeared to be in the
right place to share a wall with the boys' room, I listened in, hearing
those moans which had caught my attention. The door wasn't closed all the
way and I gently pushed it open just a crack, then peered inside.

"It wasn't until the Gold Rushes of the 1860s and 1870s that a permanent
settlement was finally established at Las Mujeres. A rich vein of gold was
discovered at the base of Big Top by Lester Chubb. News got out that Las
Mujeres was 'Fat City' and soon the mesa was home to hundreds of intrepid
prospectors dreaming of bulging wallets. When Chubb's gold turned out to
be the only strike in the area, many of the prospectors, instead of
abandoning their squatter's claims, began to discover the fecundity of the
soil, deciding to settle down and farm the land, bringing in their wives
and sweethearts and turning Las Mujeres into a closely-knit farming
community. But Lester Chubb and his descendents would see to it that their
city wouldn't languish in the backwaters." (From "Las Mujeres: An Appetite
for the Good Life", published by the LM Chamber of Commerce.)

Although I'd suspected what I might find, I was still unprepared for
the actual sight of it. On a bed that was easily ten feet by ten feet, I
could make out an enormous writhing mass of blubber. There was more flesh
than I had ever seen -- acres and acres of it, drawn by gravity's pull
into pools and waves. There was an ocean of blubber with its own currents
and tides, endlessly moving in ripples and jiggles ranging from large to
infinitesimal. At first, I couldn't even make out where one body began and
the other ended, but as I concentrated, I could soon see that this was a
leg and this was an arm and this was a breast and this was a belly. After
minutes of fascinated study I realized that Mountain and Lily were on
their sides in the sixty-nine position, their heads invisible among the
rolls and folds of fat that made up each of their gargantuan thighs. Their
moans, I realized were actually yells and screams of pleasure, muffled by
all the blubber.

I couldn't help myself: I had to touch them. I had to feel the softness
of their flesh. I ran into the room and began caressing them, reaching
over one's bulk to share my attentions with the other. They appreciated my
touch, and the surprise of it set them each to mighty shaking in paroxysms
of unbridled pleasure. Eventually their shaking slowed down, and, like
circus elephants slowly moving in unison, each of them lifted a massive
thigh, allowing the other to move their head into the open air. They
rolled onto their backs and saw me, their smiles thanking me more than any
words could have. I got a good look at the way their bellies and breasts
were so huge that they seemed to overflow their bodies and rest on the
mattress. Without a word, I shucked my clothes and climbed into the bed
between them, begging them to envelop me in their fat. They rolled on
their sides again and I felt myself being sandwiched and smothered,
drowning in the sea of hot and sweaty blubber, encased in living softness.
I imagined that all that flesh was me, and even though I couldn't touch
myself, I began to shake and shudder in orgasm after orgasm, feeling each
ripple of pleasure echo in all the sweet fat that surrounded me.

Eventually, we all stood, mumbling those post-orgasmic sounds that mean
nothing but convey a depth of shared ecstasy inexpressible in language.
After dressing, we all walked out into the main room, where the boys were
already waiting impatiently for their dessert. The appetite I'd built up
by all those orgasms overshadowed the huge and still-undigested meal that
sat in my stomach, and somehow, I managed to cram two entire apple pies
and a half-gallon of ice-cream into my protesting stomach before my arms
refused to feed me anymore. My companions kept going long after I'd
stopped, until finally, they too had reached their capacities. The boys,
though obviously stuffed, were eager to get back out to their fort, so
Lily told them to get going but be back in time for dinner.

"Although the railroads weren't interested in running a line to the nearly
inaccessible mesa, the Chubbs used a great deal of their personal fortune
to fund the completion of paved roads over the Baiute Pass, thus linking
Las Mujeres with the rest of the world. With Roland Chubb as its first
mayor, the city was incorporated in 1906 as 'The City of La Mesa de las
Mujeres Gordas', although it was commonly referred to as Las Mujeres. When
the Interstate Highway system was being mapped out in the 1950s, Rachel
Chubb -- affectionately known as "Round Rachel" for her more-than-ample
figure which hearkened back to Botero's description of the mesa's
residents -- used her considerable weight in the State government to
ensure that a spur of the Interstate reached right into Las Mujeres."
(From "Las Mujeres: An Appetite for the Good Life", published by the LM
Chamber of Commerce.)

We sat for a while, and I asked Lily about the posters. She said,
"Yeah, I was a pretty major attraction in my time. Bigger than anyone else
in my family, too. Of course, by the seventies, sideshows were just not a
big draw anymore. People thinking it was cruel to gawk at unusual folk.
But, heck, we didn't think it was cruel, cause we were gawking right back.
All those ladies commenting on how disgustingly fat I was, but I knew that
each and every one of them was looking at my pile of food and thinking
about how wonderful it'd be to toss out all those diet books and just eat
all the day long. I had some power, there, I knew, and I'd use it by
looking at some girl -- one who was a little chubby, but not very fat --
sort of like your size," she said, pointing at me. "I'd look at her --
especially if she was eating something like an ice cream cone -- and I'd
take a big huge bite of whatever I was pigging out on, then rub my bulging
belly, lick my lips and wink at her. I knew she'd be carrying that picture
in her head -- that connection -- with each bite of food she took for the
rest of her life. Some of those girls I connected with would see it in a
negative way and they'd immediately toss out whatever snack they were
working on. But others... some of them would take another bite of their
food, losing themselves in some wicked thought, while some of the more
brazen ones would take a big bite of their treat, rub their own bellies
and then wink back at me. Sometimes I'd even see them again the next year
or a couple of years down the road, and they'd be much fatter, and they'd
smile at me and I'd know that I really had connected."

She sighed, then continued, "Eventually, the circus got rid of the
sideshow, so I took the money I'd saved over the years, took the advice of
a trucker I'd met--" she turned and smiled at Mountain "-- and bought
myself this truck stop, dedicating my life to feeding all those big hungry
men hauling themselves down the roads. Sitting on your butt all day sure
builds up an appetite, they tell me."

"Transportation is still important in Las Mujeres, which boasts one of the
most popular and well-utilized public transportation system in any city of
its size. The 85 wide-body mini-buses that ply the city streets carry an
estimated 30% of the population from home to work to play each and every
day of the year. Health care is also exceptional, with the Chubb Memorial
Hospital boasting state-of-the-art detection and treatment facilities, as
well as its own helicopters for transporting difficult cases to larger
hospitals." (From "Las Mujeres: An Appetite for the Good Life", published
by the LM Chamber of Commerce.)

We talked a while more, then Mountain said he'd have to take me back up
to town before it got too dark to negotiate the treacherous roads. Lily
stood up and gave me a big hug, thanking me for making it such a memorable
afternoon. She patted my swollen tummy, then -- to my total surprise --
lifted up her dress so I could pat her stomach, exposing an immense
expanse of stretch-marked white flesh, split in two below one of the rolls
that concealed her bellybutton, and hanging down just below where her
knees would have been if they, too, weren't concealed by folds of blubber.
I ran my hands all over its soft surface -- the surface in which I had so
recently been enfolded. It was surprising how sensitive her flesh was to
my touch and the way she shivered as I explored its vastness, lifting the
huge roll of fat and feeling its monumental heft. She hugged me again and
then I followed Mountain over to the truck, practically skipping, and
enjoying the shaking of my own full stomach.

On the ride home, Mountain munched on a couple of the heros from his
refrigerator, while telling me that he'd see to it that someone with a tow
truck would pick up my car and bring it back to the house. After watching
him pick up his fourth hero, I couldn't help myself; I was intoxicated
with the process of eating. I knew that the hunger I was feeling was all
in my head and that I was already incredibly stuffed, but still, I forced
myself to cram a foot-long into my distended stomach. When I finished the
sandwich, I was so gorged that sitting upright was not an option, so I
laid down across the bench seat, resting my head on the pillowy bulge of
Mountain's gigantic belly. "Looks like someone's about outdone herself
today," he said, gently stroking my shoulder and my head until I fell
asleep.

He woke me when we got to the driveway, and after giving him a friendly
tummy-pat farewell, I headed inside, my fat stomach bulging proudly out of
my completely unzipped pants. Tonia and Diana were surprised to see me,
having gotten my note. They were even more surprised to see how hugely
swollen my belly was with the day's enormous consumption. As I told them
of the day's events, they couldn't keep their hands off of me; then -- as
if they had tapped into my fantasies of earlier that day -- the two of
them led me into the living room, stripped me down to just my underwear
and sat me down in the easy chair. Then, they set Tonia's daughter,
Samantha, to guard over me while the two of them disappeared, giggling,
into the kitchen.